


Sky Above, Voice Within

by gr324221



Series: Sky Above, Voice Within [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr324221/pseuds/gr324221
Summary: "He'd heard of the Dragonborn, of course he had, but he always assumed that he'd know it when he met him. He'd heard plenty of stories about the Dragonborn, slaughtering every dragon that threatened his homeland, devouring their souls, destroying the World-Eater and saving them all... but while those stories were sung, Anduin also heard the stories that were whispered, information he was surely only privy to because of standing. Most people wouldn't dare accuse the Dragonborn of associating with thieves and murderers and Daedra, at least not publicly. This man sitting across from him wielded unspeakable power, and if the haughty smirk and amused look in his eye meant anything, it was that he wasn't above using it to get exactly what he wants."
Relationships: Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Sky Above, Voice Within [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645456
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Sky Above, Voice Within

**Author's Note:**

> title is a song from the Skyrim OST because people who can come up with clever names for their fics are a step above humanity.
> 
> listen....... this is dumb, but it's been stuck in my head for a couple of months, so i finally wrote it. i have like 600 hours on skyrim but i'm still a baby-noob when it comes to the lore (because i haven't touched any other elder scrolls games), so if you read something in this and you're like "hm that's not how that works"..... my bad, but i'm not pulling a BDG just for my one-shot fanfic.

Anduin seldom took a day to himself. His father may have been the Jarl, but it was no secret that the citizens of their hold often preferred to meet with his considerably more sympathetic son. Technically, there was little that Anduin could do directly, seeing as his father was the one in power, but he enjoyed meeting with their people who, in turn, knew that Anduin's input was highly valued by the Jarl. His attention was in high demand, though Anduin couldn't find it within himself to complain; not only did he enjoy doing what he could to help, but it was also valuable experience that would surely help him when his father would retire from his position and pass the throne to him. He realized that what he was doing wasn't necessary or even expected, seeing as their steward could easily handle most of what Anduin had delegated onto himself, but he was happy with this arrangement.

Still, even he needed a break every now and then.

The walk from the Hall to the town's inn wasn't especially strenuous, even with his injury, and fortunately the people were well used to the sight of the Jarl's son walking with a cane. He greeted the townsfolk politely if they happened to noticed him, and made his way to the inn. It was still quite early in the day, so he found the inn nearly empty, save for the innkeeper and the barmaid. He noticed, with much amusement, that the inn's bard was snoring, sound asleep, stretched out on one of the inn's bench seats. The townspeople knew better than to approach him on official business outside of his father's court, but Anduin still felt some relief at seeing the empty inn. He would greatly enjoy the peace and quiet.

The peace and quiet was short-lived, however. He took a seat at a table across the inn from the bar, the dark alcove granting him some semblance of privacy and an unobstructed view of most of the building. The barmaid approached with a bottle of the mead he favored and a kind greeting, to which Anduin greeted her kindly in return, but she quickly left him to his business. He bent down and reached into his knapsack to retrieve a book he'd been meaning to read when the inns door opened, and in walked three strangers.

The man at the forefront was roughly his own age and distinctly Redguard in appearance, with thick, dark curls falling just past his shoulders. He wasn't wearing the thin, airy garments that Anduin knew Redguards to favor, and instead wore elegant finery, the dark shades and burnished gold accents giving him an almost regal appearance. Everything about his appearance was opulent, down to his carefully manicured beard. Anduin felt that this man wouldn't look out of place in the Emperor's company, thus making him very out of place for an inn in the middle of nowhere.

The stranger first looked toward the innkeeper behind the bar and gave a cordial nod. Anduin watched him scan the room, the look in his eyes just a touch too determined to be simply searching for a place to sit. Finally, his eyes met Anduin's, and he smiled. Anduin smiled politely, but was overwhelmed by the feeling that he wasn't going to be getting that day off after all.

The man strode confidently to Anduin's table and took a seat across from him, clearly disinterested in anything as mundane as asking if that seat was taken, or if he wished to be left alone. Anduin noticed to two women following him - an Orc and an Imperial – sit down at a table nearer to the door. Judging by the dark leather armor they wore and the proudly-displayed blades on their belts, they were bodyguards. Not surprising, Anduin figured, seeing as this man was most certainly a nobleman.

“You know, I wish that somebody had told me sooner that Jarl Varian had a son,” the man grinned at him. “Your people think most highly of you. I was told that if I needed something done - on the bureaucratic level, at least – I should speak to you.”

“I suppose you could say that,” Anduin chuckled, trying not to let his voice betray his nerves. Something about this man deeply unsettled him. His eyes were a deep, almost glowing red, he noticed, something unheard of outside of the Dunmer. Why was he speaking to _him_? Visiting nobles _always_ preferred to speak with the Jarl directly. Besides, Anduin knew most of the noble families that tended to pass through, yet this man was completely unfamiliar to him. “I'm sorry, what was your name?”

“Wrathion. It's a pleasure to meet you,” he smirked and reached across the table for a handshake.

Anduin had to fight to maintain a neutral-polite expression. He'd heard of the Dragonborn, of _course_ he had, but he always assumed that he'd know it when he met him. He'd heard plenty of stories about the Dragonborn, slaughtering every dragon that threatened his homeland, devouring their souls, destroying the World-Eater and saving them all... but while those stories were sung, Anduin also heard the stories that were whispered, information he was surely only privy to because of standing. Most people wouldn't dare accuse the Dragonborn of associating with thieves and murderers and _Daedra_, at least not publicly. This man sitting across from him wielded unspeakable power, and if the haughty smirk and amused look in his eye meant anything, it was that he wasn't above using it to get exactly what he wants.

“Anduin, though I'm sure you already knew that,” he reached out and shook Wrathion's hand. “It's an honor, Dragonborn.”

“Oh, I'm sure it is,” Wrathion gave a toothy grin.

“I must admit, I'm not entirely sure what I can do to help you. Your influence certainly surpasses my own.” Anduin would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He usually wasn't, seeing as he knew the people of his hold well, and he knew he had no reason to fear them. The Dragonborn, however, was completely unknown to him.

“Well, you see, my problem is quite simple. As you're aware, I hold a considerable amount of influence across every hold. I worked _hard_ for this power, mind you, by slaying dragons, running errands, protecting people, you know, noble, heroic things. And I've done the same here, for your people! And yet,” Wrathion gave a confused tilt of his head, “your father refuses to grant me the title of Thane. In fact, he won't even give me the time of day; I'm forced to do my business through his steward.”

Wrathion _did_ have a reputation within their hold, Anduin noted, and fortunately it seemed to be quite positive.

“I can certainly understand your frustration,” Anduin wanted to remain as neutral as possible on this issue. He could understand his confusion, though it felt more like Wrathion wasn't used to not getting what he wants. “Do you know _why_ he might be hesitant to grant you a title?”

“I have no idea!” Wrathion slumped in his chair and crossed his arms, looking particularly petulant. “Your steward won't even let me purchase property. I know for a _fact_ that there is a lovely parcel of land just outside town, and your steward won't let me buy it. I could pay, in full, right this moment, but I'm refused.”

Anduin couldn't help but smile. Maybe the Dragonborn wasn't the criminal mastermind that some of the nobles accused him of being; maybe he was just a bit spoiled. Wrathion glared.

“Is this amusing? I put so much work into becoming known around your hold, and I've gotten nothing for it! Well, nothing except some coin. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say that your father doesn't trust me.”

“I'm sure that isn't true,” Anduin said amicably, but he had to fight a snort. Of course his father wouldn't trust him. “My father is very cautious about those he keeps in his company. As Thane, you would have a considerable amount of power not only throughout the hold, but in his court as well. He doesn't want that power being abused, so he chooses his Thanes very carefully. Just give him time.”

“_Ugh_,” Wrathion groaned. “Surely there's something I could do to speed up the process. Did he, perhaps, misplace a precious family heirloom in a cairn somewhere?”

“If he did, he hasn't told me,” Anduin laughed. Wrathion hummed and tapped a finger against his chin a few times, then flagged down the barmaid. “Bring more of... whatever he's drinking, I suppose.”

They sat in silence for a few moments while they waited, and Anduin had the distinct impression that Wrathion was wanting to say something. It wasn't until the barmaid walked away after delivering more drinks that he spoke up.

“I hear that you've studied under your father's Court Wizard. I take it you have an aptitude for magic, then?” Wrathion raised a brow as he finished speaking.

“I did, yes. Jaina is an exceptionally skilled mage, and I learned much from her.”

“So you're no longer studying magic?”

“Well, I would continue, but I suppose my aptitude was only for the school of restoration magic. Jaina did her best to teach me what she knew, but her knowledge is more so in... well, anything _but_ restoration. I've learned what I could from tomes and such, but I fear I've reached the limit of what I can accomplish without a tutor.”

“Have you considered applying to the College of Winterhold?” Anduin scoffed.

“My father would kill me if I brought it up. He hated that I wanted to study magic at all. Moving to Winterhold to study at the College would be out of the question.” Wrathion scoffed.

“Typical Nord, fearing _magic_. Hm... you know,” Wrathion began with a devious glint in his eyes, “I have connections all across the land, including in the College of Winterhold. Those with a passion for the healing arts are in high demand. Surely your father wouldn't be able to ignore a letter from the _Arch-Mage_, pleading with him to send his skilled, _dashing_ son to the school to further his studies.”

“Wha-” Anduin sputtered, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. “Are you trying to _bribe_ me?” The accusation was technically serious, but Anduin's tone was light and incredulous. Wrathion just grinned. “Wrathion, you realize that I can't just _tell_ him what to do, yeah? If he doesn't want you to be a Thane, he won't make you a Thane. No amount of pleading on my part will change his mind. Besides, why are you trying to bribe _me_ and not him?”

“I _could_ bribe him, I suppose. What does he like? Or would blackmail be more efficient? Say, you wouldn't happen to know his deepest, darkest secrets, would you?” Anduin thought that maybe he should be worried about the Dragonborn threatening to blackmail his father, but he couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. He felt, from Wrathion's tone, that he wasn't being serious and again, he was simply unused to not getting his way. Wrathion was clearly trying to look serious, but seeing Anduin laugh seemed to break his reserve and he cracked a smile, more warm and genuine than Anduin had seen yet. He didn't reply, but Wrathion didn't seem to be expecting him to. They drank in silence for a few minutes before Wrathion spoke up again.

“Perhaps you could be an adventurer like me. I certainly wouldn't mind a healer following me around, patching me up during fights. It would save me a fortune on potions.” The idea had its appeal, sure, but Anduin just sighed.

“That sounds exciting, of course, but my place is here. I'll be the Jarl someday, and I'd like to be as prepared as possible when that day comes. I don't want the people of this hold to think that they mean little to me, which is what I fear would happen if I left, only to return when it's my time to claim the throne. I want them to trust me.”

“Well, when do you expect your father to retire? Maybe I wouldn't mind waiting so much if it meant I could be _your_ Thane.”

“I hope it won't be anytime soon,” Anduin pointedly ignored the blush he knew had returned, “The people love him, and I expect him to be fully capable of keeping his position for a couple more decades, at least. I see no reason why things should change.”

“That's disappointing,” Wrathion sighed. “As much as I've enjoyed your company, Anduin, this meeting has proved entirely fruitless.”

“I'm sorry,” Anduin truly meant it. “I wish I could help. Please don't try to bribe or blackmail my father. He _will_ throw you in jail, you know.”

“I won't, I promise,” Wrathion winked, “Though I refuse to believe that there's nothing I can do, short of, obviously, _crimes_, to expedite this process. You surely have access to information that the general public doesn't have. Are there any evil secret cults or petty criminals I could help with?”

“I'm afraid not,” he smiled, “though... I'll put a good word in with my father. I can't promise anything, but I'll make sure he knows how eager you are to help.”

“That would be lovely. Just let me finish my drink, and I'll leave you be.”

“Don't hurry on my account. I've enjoyed having company.” Wrathion gave him another warm smile. Anduin wondered if he should be more cautious. The Dragonborn was widely respected, but also widely feared, and for good reason. Yet, he sat here in front of him, and Anduin felt nothing but comfort. They sat quietly for a few minutes while Wrathion finished off his bottle. When he set his empty bottle back on the table, Anduin realized that Wrathion was watching him closely, and that devious glint was back.

“Is that... an amulet of Mara?” Anduin choked on his drink, and knew his face was likely reaching new shades of red.

“Absolutely not, no.” Wrathion laughed, not unkindly.

“Ah, it was worth a shot. Well, I suppose I'll see you around, Anduin Wrynn.” Wrathion stood, as did his guards, and gave him another wink before walking out of the inn.

Anduin wasn't sure how he'd explain this meeting to his father, but he truly hoped Wrathion was serious about seeing him again.

**Author's Note:**

> my brain: please...... finish your other wranduin au, you've already written 18k words, there's literally half a chapter left, just finish it...........  
my heart: mmmmmmskyrim
> 
> anyway thanks for reading, i love you very much <3 <3 <3


End file.
